Larson And The Ghost
by Langwurst
Summary: In his quest to become a better person Larson runs across a ghost who is terrorizing a local village. Can he exorcize his demons? Can he stay away from his murky past? Why do I keep writing Intros like this? Read on.


Larson blew the smoke from his gun. The Bandits lay strewn amongst the rocks all dead but interestingly so.

'It's alright y'all they all dead.' The Villagers for reasons of their own stayed in their homes. One threw some money out. Sighing Larson picked it up and took enough to cover travel expenses which was nearly all of it. It all came down to making friends. It seemed so important but he was no good at it. There had been Pierre but as Ma had said he was bad boy. Larson returned the remainder of the money to the villagers. Someone threw some more out. Larson went to leave chucking a small arsenal into the back he climbed up into the cab of the large jeep.

The reason Larson had taken a moral 180 was simply put, Lara Croft. It wasn't love at first sight because Larson was a little slow in certain areas and afterwards it had taken a while for the drugs to wear off but he was pretty sure he was in love with Lady Croft. Thoughts took a while to become whole in the head of Larson but when they did they arrived with the momentum of a charging bull. So he had quit the employ of Pierre and moved his mother to an old people's home where they had bingo every night. Even then he realised it wasn't enough, to woo a classy chick like that. Not to put too fine a point on it his immortal soul was somewhat tarnished. So he had gone on his journey and had found that occasionally people needed help so figuring there was some kind of great weighing scales in the sky he had provided help where he could despite the fact that the kind of help he was good at involved guns and KABLOOM this had proved actually kind of popular.

Larson arrived in the next backwater at night. He parked up at the local bar and got out. He hated this bit; it was all down to making friends again. Larson wasn't good at talking to people he did however have the constitution of an ox and carried around an air of machismo so thick you could float rocks on it which meant pretty much one thing when he walked into a bar, well two depending on what kind of bar he walked into but people weren't that civilized out here.

'What can I getcha?' The bar man was attempting to give Larson a full body leer.

'Whisky, straight.' Money exchanged hands and the drink was produced. Larson counted to thirty in his head and…

'I betsh that youzz canna drink old pete under the table.' Larson smiled at the giant of a man sat in two corners of the room at once.

'Loser pays? And a little something extra to make it interesting?' Larson smiled to himself again, it was going to be a good night after all.

Forty minutes later Larson left the dive with an address and a slight headache. Must be getting old he thought. He decided to get this sorted out early and then ditch this hole for a clean hotel. He got to the old warehouse some five minutes later before getting out he took a Shotgun and a hefty handgun which he holstered.

The door creaked, Larson distrusted creaking doors, it wasn't that he was scared because Larson was scared of nothing , with the possible exception of chickens but it creaked all the same.

'Hello thar? Anyone in?' Larson hadn't really expected an answer but on the upside there had been no squawking either. He walked out into the warehouse's main floor space to find a glowing mist writhing in the dead centre of the air. Larson couldn't remember quite why he was here but he hedged his beats. He shot it. Quite inconsiderately it took no notice. Larson as commented on prior had quite a simple mind in some respects, he shot it again. It looked like it would ignore him again but instead it turned to face him. Whilst still being a faceless mass of mist, Larson however had no time to appreciate this as he was thrown through a window out into the street.

'Right.' He proclaimed with terrible judgment. 'This time I'm a gonna get angry.'

He ran into the deserted building all guns blazing. This time he came out through a wall. When he was capable of thought again he pulled out the card with the address on it, and turned it over. The back read simply "Gost cant be shot. V important. Phone."

There was only one person who could help him with this level of thinking, as much as he didn't like to drag up his dank past he phoned the one person he knew could help him.

'Ma?'

'No this is Nurse Press here dear is that you Larson? I'm afraid your mum can't come to the phone right now there playing super bingo down at the town hall but I'll pass on your love for her dear. Bye.'

Well that was it Larson was out of people who he could rely upon. No wait there was him too.

'Pierre?'

'Oui? Oh iz it not my little Larson how happy we iz to be hearing from you after all thiz time.'

'Pierre I need to ask you a favour.'

'Oh my friend you will always be welcomed back to the fold I will send out a personal jet immediately.'

'Err no. Look Pierre I just need to know how to kill ghosts.'

'Oh this iz all? But remember what fun we had. You remember Berlin?'

'Sorry Pierre jus the ghost thing.'

'Ah it iz a pity. It turns out these yetis are much harder to kill then we had thought.'

'Pierre.'

'Sorry yes, you will need to exorcize them which means you need a priest or holy man.'

'Right yeah like that dude in Tasmania.'

'Close. However I think stakes would be out of ze picture and garlic would only serve as a quick snack. However crosses and holy water might be a good idea. Down Fido.' There was gun fire on the other end of the line.

'Thanks.'

'Was zer anything else?'

'Err no.'

'Remember we iz always happy to have you back as soon as you are finished with this silly trip of yours? I said down Fido!' Further gun fire could be heard on the phone figuring that his friend was busy Larson hung up.

'Who you gonna call?' Larson idly wondered and was surprised to not find the answer under GO he found it under GH after some browsing.'

Light beams blasted out of the instrument that resembled a vacuum cleaner and wrapped around the ball of mist. The ball of mist again turned to face them .

'I'm sorry this doesn't normally happen to me.'

They both went through the wall.

Right holy man thought Larson. He flipped through the book but couldn't find any entries under Priest Vicar or Mad Holy Man. He did find one under Nun. Which seemed kind of odd, to be more exact every word surrounding it seemed odd. It said Nun right there in black and yellow. But it was surrounded by other words. To pick on one in particular nuns weren't usually associated with a good time, God time yes but not good, maybe it had been a typo. It was the best in the book so he called. A young lady answered the line and agreed to meet him at the factory.

'Hey honey you the one who called?' Well she was defiantly wearing a habit even if it seemed a little shorter round the edges.

'Yes mam'

'You said you had a service you wanted me to perform.' As she spoke Larson wondered if nuns where allowed to smoke.

'Yes mam. Errm its gonna sound a little odd.'

'That's okay honey but it might cost you a little extra.' She said winking.

'I was kinda hoping if ya would exorcize a spirit for me.'

'Oh honey I'll exorcize all your demons.' As she said she snaked her way closer to the tall Texan.

'Just one demon.'

'ooh you do know what you want don't you' With that she reached down and squeezed gently. Larson Jumped. Nobody touched him down there well there had been Berlin and well okay his mum probably had at some point as a baby, and there had been prom night but the point was it just wasn't done.

'Sorry mam but I'm gonna have to ask you to… hngrrghhnh.'

'ooh a shy one I like that in a man.'

'Pierre it's not working out I tried the holy person I even got a specialist and holy water doesn't work either.' Well she had blessed it.

'Ah im zo zorry to hear vis maybe it iz time you returned to what you are good at hmm?'

'No thank you Pierre. Look is there another way to kill ghosts.'

'Sometimes ghosts stay on because of unfinished business you could try to talk to it you could settle there unfinished business then poof bang all gone.'

'How do you find out what they want done?'

'Ah you would ave to talk to it yes.'

'Oh thanks Pierre.' Great thought Larson more making friends.

'Hello. Look I'm sorry about all that stuff before. I was wondering if you could tell me what you want done.' He looked at a scrawl on his hand. 'What your unfinished buss-ness was?'

The mist swirled in upon one point slowly taking the form of a beautiful woman.

'You have come to help me?'

'Err yes I just need to know what you left undone that you want done.'

The spirit bit her lip and looked Larson up and down. 'Well I did never experience the love of a man.'

Larson smiled maybe it was going to be a good night after all.


End file.
